


The Lighthouse in The Nuthouse

by FancyLadySnackCakes



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Dubious Consent, Enthusiastic Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Purple Prose, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sharing, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-07-23 22:18:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16167986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyLadySnackCakes/pseuds/FancyLadySnackCakes
Summary: Summary: It's a long way down to the end of the hallway and there's nothing there but black blood and something that might have been a man but isn't any longer. In a stupor, she walks further onward, only pulled away from certain death by four strong arms and the shadow-laced body heat of two men bent on turning their lust for violence inside out. She soaks in the lulling roughness; soothed by flesh and fluids and the endless, rolling ocean of darkness.Anon asked: Ooooh can we request things for kinktober? The threesome one would be amazing with the twins from the first outlast gameA/N: For Day 22 of Kinktober (threesome). Please heed the tags for warnings. <3





	The Lighthouse in The Nuthouse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous/gifts).



In the darkness, it is impossible to tell where the walls end and vacuous air begins. She is a lost lamb is a sea of filth; sick, mentally unsound, but innocent. There are still memories - locked tightly behind intricate, fleshy mechanisms - that prove to her she had once been outside these walls. A healer… a nurse… someone she could respect, but now she’s deranged, and the lights have gone out, both inside and outside. 

She’s avoided hands with malicious intent and whispers to do herself and others harm, whether those voices come from brain-rotted patients or her own abyssal skull, is unknown. They follow like flies on a festering wound, but the darkness disorients them as much as it does her… and eventually, they lose her to it. 

When she finally feels her way along the length of a long, near-endless corridor, glimmering lights draw her forwards. 

She follows the glow without question. It’s the beacon - the swirling vortex with no name, only feeling. Warmth. Emptiness. A void heaven just for her. The doctors may have created the lighthouse but it’s all of them that fuel it, and in this, she is less afraid of the men that linger and draw closer to the lights just as she does. 

A man, strapped motionless to a gurney struggles, begging the dead-eyed men standing beside him to ‘undo these chains!’ but none of them lift a finger to help.

She passes a man with a bare foot kicked up on the wall, his arms crossed and a face near split in two. He grimaces but does not lunge for her as the hands in the dark did. His mutterings, like the rest of them - like her own - are unintelligible. 

There is no reason to trust him - no reason to trust any of them. Too many horrors have been done to all of them to merely undo the straight jackets and manacles… it is kinder to let them bathe in the light of the Walrider even though it means endless deaths. 

In the distance, a scream is cut down by the splat of juicy viscera. The light vibrates under metric tons of pressurized darkness, but no one runs as the blood paints the walls in brackish grease. She could turn and sprint away from the void, but she is not strong enough to outrun the Walrider, and she is surely not strong enough to fight off the hands groping for her within the-

A massive paw of human fingers snatches the skinny length of her forearm. 

She screams. 

Oh, how she screams… and yet the void doesn’t gobble her up nor do the other men surround her on all corners of the corridor react. One of them turns to her as hands pull her from the beacon, but his eyes are blank; empty. 

Another hand wraps around her thigh, just an inch under the hospital gown and more ceaseless howls shoot from her throat in involuntary soundings. The fear bleeds noises like croaks when her throat finally runs raw, but by that time, the comforting wash of light is but a twinkle in a disgusting pool of dark brine. 

Two more hands pull at her shoulder and wrist, dragging her back into the darkness of a room with cold pockets of air and nothing at all comforting except damp body heat and something thick - weighty - bobbing against the side of her leg. 

“Look what we’ve found, Brother.”

Her heart thuds through her veins, pumping and pounding beneath the skin that’s slowly, carefully exposed. 

“I want her insides…” the other one says; a deeper, more relaxed candor despite the hands that unapologetically cup her bare groin. Stark reality stretches time and space, making each palm full of naked flesh feel like an eternity. 

“Wait your turn, Brother. I spotted her first,” her stealer says, but it’s this hungry, slow tone that begins the nagging sense of dread. Odd, it is, that such noxious fear would only hit her now. 

They grope her, providing heat where there is cold. Every touch leaves raised tingles from rough, bulging calluses. 

One of them sniffs the sweaty, cold skin at the back of her neck where long blonde locks used to lay. Her shaven head does not disgust them as it has Doctors who used to look at her with lust… it does not stop their explorations as it has others. Her nearly bald head does not hide her gender when she is so vulnerable and exposed as she is now, being teased and tugged upon and…

… and licked with flat tongues; tasted.

“Like salted beef, she is,” the deeper voice resonates against her neck, rubbing thick, damp lips up towards her ear where a tongue licks her lobe. 

“I’ll take her mouth…” he continues as the other brother tugs her knees open. The cold air sticks to her damp curls but a hot, hard belly is jammed between her thighs, sending a warm flash of heat through her body. It is lightning sparking the darkness inside where the beacon had once been and the sensation - the internal light - makes her sing softly. 

“You may have it,” the first brother says as her moans echo through the room. He molds her rear in one hand and tugs at her ankle, bumping her slit against his hips until she is met with his cock. 

“... be gentle,” she requests, puffing fearful gasping breaths. 

“She speaks,” the one pressing against her insides mocks. His thick… engorged appendage nudges. It shifts upwards and then… with the other Brothers help, the length is slid in place and wedged within. 

Penetrated, she thinks, crying wordlessly as sweet burning pain awakens her nerves. Before she’d been but a porpoise in a rolling storm, sleeping through the rocky undertow, now she’s flying through waves and sucking down the salty spray of sweaty air. 

A tongue slides along her jaw, and in the darkness it may as well be a tentacle, coiling forth from the black pits of cosmic depths. The appendage has a mouth, and its plushness finds her trembling lips despite her open mouth panting. 

“Yes,” she utters throatily against the tongue, sucking it into her mouth as large, oversized palms cup and squeeze her small breasts. She’s been awoken indeed. The machines saw fit to tap her brain like an underwater submarine, sinking with too much sea water, but now she’s one with the brine… rocked back and forth...

These brothers, who tug at her body like the wind does the sea, have been opened up as well. Despite how they twist her between them - walls of equally naked flesh warming her where the air chills - they have one thing in common: insanity. 

There is no use in fighting them. No point in struggling. She wouldn’t want to anyhow. This is where she belongs, being roughly laid down on a cold, squeaky gurney where her head can fall off the side so a musky cock can prod at her cheek. 

“Open, Sister.”

Perhaps, she could slip away, but it would not be long before they snatched her up again; their lust too teased by her flighty chase. She gasps as the hardness within her stretches her small body beyond measure, but takes it - enjoying it - and parts her lips as thumb finds the swell of her bottom lip. 

Soft foreskin unfurls and wrinkles around a damp, salty cap of nerves. The head of his cock breeches her lips, slips between her teeth and fills her just before gagging. They are… as she requested, gentle… or at least the deeper-toned brother is. 

The other one is grunting, gripping her hip and ankle up over his chest while slapping dense hips between her legs, fucking her deep and slow and… so, so hard...

Old memories of intimacy surface like a buoy at sea. She remembers firm flesh slipping between her folds, and kisses on her breasts with sweaty skin gliding passionately towards a climax. 

It can be sweet… but this is something beyond the physical. Her breasts are squeezed and fondled. Her tight little nipples are pinched only for the brother between her legs to lean over and lick them betwixt the others fingers. 

She sweats as her body is filled. Her throat swallows as something slimy mixes with her saliva. More salt. More rocking waves of blissful tension, mixed with pain like cold and warm currents.

Teeth tease her nipples until they are brushed with soreness. Her stretched cunt is pounded with mutant-sized vigor and the flesh inside her mouth pulses; gone further towards the back of her throat. Sparkles of mixed pleasure fill her belly. 

She is fucked. 

Fucked… and fucked. 

Cum fills her mouth, and she swallows half, gagging on the rest until that hot mouth she kissed before returns to suck the remaining fluids from her messy lips until she’s saturated in pleasure. Bursting, wet bliss crashes, and she quivers, hands clutching the broad, bony face above her. 

He snorts and growls and thumbs her nipples as the brother between her thighs makes the gurney scream. 

Cock rams her body. 

The rusty wheels scratch the tile floor. People outside the room scream as she cries inside a hot mouth and sobs aloud when it retreats. Instead of swallowing her sounds, he chooses to suck her nipples into distended points. Pleasure pulls at her breasts. Saliva runs down into the hollow of her throat and the cock inside her floods her with heat. 

“My turn,” a deep, belly-rasp says against her nipples; tongue lapping at the swollen nubs. 

“She is perfection, brother. Her little body loves us.”

“... more,” she whispers, tasting the sour, salty flavor of semen, imagining being washed ashore as they circle her. Their heat wraps around her like warm waters once more, and a fresh, pre-soaked cock is slid through eager muscles once more. 

The Walrider eviscerates those lingering in the corridor outside the room. The Phantom leaves silky trails of static algae behind. Forcing the kinder, gentler brothers to batter her insides, unlike anything she could have fathomed. The first brother delves himself past her uvula until she is snorting breaths through her nostrils every time he barely fills her mouth and the whole time she is clutching at flesh, bringing it harder unto her; needing more. 

She wants more. 

She’d scream for it if she had the use of vocal chords meant for more than choking around hard, silky flesh. It’s no matter. The brothers feel her desire and indulge her. They drag her below the surface, filling her with the brine of the sea - the essence of flesh and the body and they all coil around one another until the bottom finds them and they are finally satisfied.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you have the time, please leave me a comment letting me know what worked for you or what didn't.
> 
> Thank you to FleshDust for betaing! <3
> 
>  
> 
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